


With soft pillow, tender lips and fingers

by Salambo06



Series: Tumblr Collection [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Hurt John, M/M, Sherlock takes care of him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock stopped in front of John’s bedroom door. He could hear John inside, probably trying to get ready for bed by himself despite his two broken ribs and twisted ankle. He hadn’t ask for any help, simply declaring he was exhausted and needed some rest, mostly due to the endless hours they spend at the hospital, before going up. </p><p>Sherlock sighed silently. He wanted to knock, to help him, to apologize. It was entirely his fault, he was the one who ran off without thinking twice about their suspect’s accomplice, and now John would not be able to leave the flat for days, healing slowly and painfully. </p><p>“Just come in and help me,” he heard John call from inside the room and Sherlock took a deep breath before opening the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters of this story are gift ficlet I wrote for my followers on tumblr, so they're quite short ! But the third chapter will be longer and more explicit than the first two !
> 
> Enjoy !!
> 
> Titles from the poem,  
> “love  
> wounds me  
> with soft pillows  
> with tender lips  
> and fingers”  
> ― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest

Sherlock stopped in front of John’s bedroom door. He could hear John inside, probably trying to get ready for bed by himself despite his two broken ribs and twisted ankle. He hadn’t asked for any help, simply declared he was exhausted and needed some rest, mostly due to the endless hours they spent at the hospital, before going up.

Sherlock sighed silently. He wanted to knock, to help him, to apologize. It was entirely his fault; he was the one who ran off without thinking twice about their suspect’s accomplice, and now John would not be able to leave the flat for days, healing slowly and painfully.

“Just come in and help me,” he heard John call from inside the room and Sherlock took a deep breath before opening the door.

John had his shirt partly removed, one arm above his head. 

“Don’t you dare laugh,” he warned but Sherlock had no intention to laugh at all.

John’s chest was golden compared to his own pale skin, and Sherlock couldn’t seem to look away. He could discern John’s muscles, even his scar and the light chest hair here and there. All within Sherlock’s reach.

“Sherlock?”

Shaking himself back to reality, Sherlock hurried to help him. “You should have said something.”

“I was waiting for your genius brain to catch up,” John replied and Sherlock could hear the smile in his voice.

“John-” he breathed out slowly. “I’m sorry I left you behind.”

“Stop. It could have been worse if we both went after the suspect.”

“Still, I should have known,” Sherlock replied, finally managing to remove John’s shirt entirely.

John let it fall on the floor, wincing as he put his arm back down. There were too many bruises on his stomach and sides, not to mention the graze of the accomplice’s knife just under his left nipple.

“I’m fine,” John said, forcing Sherlock to look up at him again, “but I’ll need some help getting out of these.”

John looked down at his trousers and Sherlock felt his heartbeat quickening. John had already opened the zipper, and Sherlock glanced at the black pants underneath, looking away quickly.

“Better sit down,” he said as John began to push his trousers down around his thighs.

“Yes, you’re right.” John walked backward until he hit the bed, sitting down slowly. Sherlock waited until he was finished before kneeling before him and worked the trousers down. He made sure to go easy around the wounded ankle, John hissing above him. Sherlock kept his eyes on his own hands, resisting the desire to glance up, to finally get a look at the only part of John’s body he’d never properly studied before.

“Thank you,” John smiled when he was finally wearing only his pants.

Sherlock stood up again, folding the trousers before putting them on the nearest chair.

“Do you need anything else?” Sherlock asked, picking up John’s shirt too. “John?”

Sherlock turned back to face him only to find John already asleep, having scooted up the bed just enough to lie properly. He was still above the duvet and Sherlock allowed himself to let down his guard.

He approached the bed again, eyes traveling down John’s body and stopping again at the different marks on his skin. John wasn’t allowed to get hurt, he couldn’t be. Sherlock needed him here, with him. He had to be more careful.

“I’m sorry, John,” he whispered, sitting down next to him.

John stirred a little but didn’t wake, and Sherlock settled against the headboard, eyes fixed on his relaxed face.

“I love you,” he murmured again, fighting back the urge to lay down next to him. “You can’t leave.”

John didn’t move and Sherlock stood up again, leaving the room without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

John’s entire body was hurting when he woke up. For a moment, he wondered what had happened to him, why he felt like he couldn’t even stand up, but then the events of the night before came back to him.

With Sherlock running after their suspect, John followed behind before getting attacked by the man’s accomplice. The knife that had grazed his skin. John looked at his arm, where blood had seeped through the bandage. He needed to change it - if he could ever move again. The slightest movement made his chest hurt, his broken ribs keeping him down.

Bed rest, the doctor had said. Bed rest.

Fuck.

“Sherlock?” John called, hoping he hadn’t gone out yet but almost immediately his bedroom door flew open.

“Do you need anything?” Sherlock asked, eyes scanning John’s face and body and John felt himself blush, still wearing only his pants.

“I need to change my bandage, but I can’t even sit up by myself,” he explained, Sherlock already walking towards the bed.

“I can help you,” he said, almost too carefully.

“That’ll be great, thanks,” John replied, wincing as he tried to sit against the headboard, “God, that hurts!”

“Wait.”

Before he could register what was happening, Sherlock’s arms were around his waist, careful not to apply too much pressure, and helping him sit more comfortably. John looked away, hoping Sherlock wouldn’t feel his quickening heartbeat.

John could remember each and every time he took care of Sherlock, his fingers brushing the pale skin with delicacy, imagining many other ways he could be touching Sherlock. But this was the first time Sherlock was the one taking care of him, and John couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to survive this.

“Better?” Sherlock asked and John nodded, clearing his throat before saying, “I have everything in the bag over there.”

Sherlock went to pick it up and came back to sit next to John. “You’ll have to explain what I’ll need to do,” he said, already going through John’s medical equipment.

“Just a new bandage and some disinfectant.” Sherlock glanced up at him, smiling before looking at his arm.

He began to remove the used bandage, fingers brushing John’s skin, and John felt a shiver run through him. He needed to take back control over his body. Sherlock was going to notice any second now.

“Tell me if it’s hurting you,” Sherlock said, his voice almost a whisper and John found he couldn’t reply, not trusting his own voice right now.

Closing his eyes, John tried to focus on his breathing.

“Everything’s alright?” Sherlock asked and John nodded.

“Just disinfects the wound and put on the new bandage; it should hold until tonight.”

For a few minutes, neither of them talked. Sherlock was still touching him and John couldn’t help but wonder what it could feel like to have these hands somewhere else, on his chest, in his hair, on his face.

“John?”

“Sorry,” John hurried to say, “You’re doing fine.”

“I’m done,” Sherlock said, hands back on his own legs and John almost said he needed to start all over again but Sherlock’s bandage was perfect.

“Thanks.”

Sherlock smiled, putting everything back in the bag.

“I can bring you some breakfast, if you want,” Sherlock suggested, looking down at his hands.

“That’ll be perfect,” John smiled.

Sherlock glanced up at him, nodding, before standing up.

“Just a minute,” he said before heading downstairs.

John let his head fall back, breathing out slowly. His bandage would need to be done twice a day, for a fortnight.

He was going to need a lot of self control.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day two**

Sherlock managed to keep his body under control the entire ten minutes he spent sitting on John’s bed, fingers brushing his skin as he inspected the wound, detailing it to John before changing the bandage. He didn’t let his fingers linger on John’s arm, didn’t let the warmth of John’s body next to his distract him, and left the room after promising John he’d be back to help him come downstairs.

There, alone and far from John’s stare, Sherlock closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes, I’m coming.”

**Day three**

John laughed, his entire body shaking as Sherlock sulked next to him.

“Stop laughing,” he repeated.

“Sorry, but poor Mycroft!” John smiled, breathing in deeply to calm himself. “Just imagining his face when he woke up!”

His laughter echoed in the room again. Sherlock had helped him downstairs over an hour ago, and they had been sitting in their chairs since then, talking, and John hadn’t felt this happy in days.

“I was only five, I just wanted to know what flesh looked like!”

“And cutting your brother’s arm open while he was sleeping was the only way to find out?”

Sherlock smiled and John forgot how to breath for a second.

“Alright,” Sherlock conceded, “maybe I did it on purpose.”

“Of course you did!” John laughed again, wincing as the pain in his ribs woke up.

“John?”

“I’m fine,” he smiled, leaning back into his chair, “just stop making me laugh.”

**Day four**

Sherlock stared at the different frozen dishes on the shelf, wondering which one he was supposed to buy. All John had said was that he needed to get some food to last for a few days, and Sherlock had assured him he would get it for them. John had smiled at him, a small smile that made Sherlock’s stomach flutter, and thanked him.

But now, Sherlock had no idea what he was supposed to do. What did John usually buy? He couldn’t even remember the last time he had gone to the shop.

Taking out his phone with a sigh, Sherlock dialed John’s number.

**Day seven**

John waited until Sherlock was gone to lay back on his bed, hands gripping at the sheets as he remembered the way Sherlock’s breath had felt against his skin. Sherlock had never looked at John’s wound so closely before, and John had thought for a moment he was going to kiss it. Which was ridiculous. Really.

But now that he was alone, John couldn’t help but imagine Sherlock’s lips on his skin, kissing his way up John’s arm, shoulder and neck.

“Oh, god,” John breathed out, closing his eyes as he felt his cock harden.

**Day twelve**

Sherlock had almost taken John’s hand.

It had rested so close to his, barely an inch away, and it would have been so easy.

They had been talking for a while, Sherlock sitting on John’s bed, a little closer this time, but neither of them had said anything.

So easy, Sherlock thought again, laying down on the sofa.

**Day fourteen**

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” John declared as Sherlock entered his bedroom, “I can change the bandage by myself now.”

“Oh,” Sherlock replied, stopping in the doorway.

“Yes,” John smiled, looking down at his arm, “Thank you for your help these past few days.”

“It’s fine, you’ve done it for me so many times before,” Sherlock said and John forced himself to look up at him.

Sherlock was smiling but ithis smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I won’t be going back to work anytime soon, but I can walk by myself more easily now,” John continued, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

Sherlock nodded, “I’ll make tea.”

“Alright, thank you.”

Sherlock stayed silent for a second, staring at John’s bandage before turning around and walking back downstairs. John closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. He could have pretended to need Sherlock’s help today, just to feel his hands on him one last time.

He should have.

**Three days later**

Sherlock jumped in surprise as he heard a loud bang upstairs, quickly followed by John’s voice, cursing. Sherlock frowned, waiting for a moment, before climbing the stairs quickly when another noise echoed in the flat.

“John?” he called.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, don’t com-”

Sherlock had opened the door before John could finish and froze, fingers around the door handle and throat suddenly dry. John was staring back at him, his shirt in hand, wearing only his pants.

“I-” Sherlock began but stopped, not trusting his own voice at the moment.

John cleared his throat, looking away as he said, “I knocked the lamp down.”

Sherlock nodded, eyes traveling down John’s chest before looking away, blushing. “I should go,” he finally managed to say, “Sorry.”

Just as he turned, Sherlock heard John’s voice behind him, his fingers closing around Sherlock’s wrist, “Sherlock, wait.”

Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on the floor, heart beating furiously. John would be able to feel it and he would know, if he hadn’t figured it out yet. He needed to get back downstairs and hope John would forget about it entirely.

“Sherlock,” John said again, his voice just above a whisper and Sherlock felt his thumb caress his wrist, “Look at me.”

Sherlock inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second before turning to face John again. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated and Sherlock could almost feel his warm breath against his face

They stared at each other for a long minute, neither of them moving. Sherlock couldn’t breathe properly anymore, his eyes studying John’s face, eyes, cheeks, lips.

John growled, actually growled, and then he was cupping Sherlock’s face, crashing their mouths together. Sherlock closed his arms around John’s waist immediately, moaning into the kiss. John was kissing him, and it felt even better than he had ever imagined. He felt John’s free hand slide up his nape, fingers trailing through his hair and Sherlock’s legs went weak, his entire body shivering as John licked at his lower lip. Sherlock opened his mouth, their tongues meeting again and again.

“John,” Sherlock gasped when they parted, pressing their bodies closer.

“God, Sherlock,” John breathed out before kissing him again, walking backwards toward the bed.

Sherlock fell forwards, landing on top of John before rolling to his side when John hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” he hurried to apologize but John shushed him with another kiss.

He rolled Sherlock onto his back before crawling on his lap, their groins brushing and Sherlock moaned loudly at the feeling of John’s erection against his own. He broke the kiss, staring down. John’s cock was hard inside his pants, the head almost slipping out of the waistband and Sherlock threw his head back, back arching in the bed.

“Sherlock, fuck,” John panted, rocking his hips against Sherlock’s, “Tell me that’s alright.”

“John, yes.”

Sherlock couldn’t think properly anymore. He needed to be naked. John needed to be naked. Now. He tugged at John’s pants, sliding one hand under it to grab at his arse. John shivered above him, both hands now working on Sherlock’s shirt, mouth kissing at his nipples as soon as he was done with it. Sherlock’s moan echoed in the room, his free hand now on John’s head.

“Oh, John!”

John kissed his way down his chest and belly stopping at his trousers. He looked up at Sherlock, grinning, before unbuttoning them quickly, pushing both trousers and pants down his legs at the same time. He crawled down the bed, throwing Sherlock’s clothes on the floor while he got rid of his own pants. Sherlock wasted no time, removing his shirt before reaching for John again, urging him to lay down.

“Hmm.”

John settled between Sherlock’s legs, their erections now sliding against one another, and Sherlock was certain he was going to combust. He dug his fingers into John’s back, kissing him as they began to rock together.

“We need-” John said but stopped, reaching for his nightstand, “lube.”

Sherlock could only nod, locking one leg around John’s waist as he canted his hips higher, “John, please.”

“Yes, love, yes.”

Sherlock shut his eyes whenas John’s lubed hand closed around them both, stroking fast and hard, taking all of Sherlock’s breath out of him.

“John, John.”

John kissed him again, removing his hand so they could thrust together, the friction bringing Sherlock closer and closer. He held onto John’s shoulder, pouring all of his love into their kiss, letting John know how much he had craved for this, how much he needed this, needed him.

“Oh god, Sherlock,” John panted against his lips, resting their foreheads together, “You feel so good, so beautiful.”

“John.”

“Gorgeous,” John continued, “absolutely gorgeous.”

Sherlock’s entire body arched on the bed as he came, head thrown back as John kissed down his neck, thrusting once, two, three more times before he was coming too, crying out Sherlock’s name. Sherlock held him close, refusing to let go. He needed to stay there forever, to always feel John’s comfortable weight on top of him.

“Sherlock,” John whispered, claiming his mouth for a softer kiss this time.

They kissed for a long while, Sherlock too afraid to let go, but eventually John rolled to lay by his side, bringing their bodies back together immediately. Sherlock settled against his chest, breathing in John’s scent.

“John, is th-”

Sherlock stopped, his fingers brushing John’s belly softly.

“Yes, love?” John asked, kissing his forehead gently.

Sherlock looked up at him, staring into John’s eyes before asking, “love?”  
John smiled, cupping Sherlock’s head as he leant down to brush their lips together, “Yes, always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very appreciated :)


End file.
